The Entity
by This Ren
Summary: Tony is kidnapped by a Cult that believes sacrificing him is the key to everlasting life and world dominance. It becomes Gibbs mission to rescue him, but with nobody believing Tony to be in danger, can he save him? NO RELATIONSHIPS
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS or anything affiliated with NCIS.

**A/N: **Hi! Welcome to my latest fic! Just a few quick things before we begin:

**1) **This story just kind of popped into my head and wouldn't leave me alone. I've finished it completely, know exactly how it's going to play out and end.

**2)** Because it is already finished, I will be updating every few days. Probably not everyday as I'm really busy with work lately, but every few days.

**3) **There are no relationships in this story. None at all.

**4) **I don't wish to offend anybody, so if you're in a cult, I'd recommend you not read this. I do bash a bit on cults, however, there is no bashing of any major or minor religion. That's not my style.

**5) **Not all of the chapters will be long. Some are, in fact, very short, but as I will be updating on such a regular basis, there is no need to fret about chapter length. There won't be much time between updates!

**Read and Enjoy!**

**Chapter 1**

**A Desperate Attempt at Escape**

He was running as fast as his long legs would allow him. He jumped over tree roots and the gnarly bare branches of bushes that had not survived the harsh winter months. Fallen trees caused him to take detours, holding him back and taking up time he didn't have. His lungs ached as he gasped in the frigid winter air, and puffs rolled away from his face with each breath that he let out. He was panting, fighting to move faster and faster, but he knew it was useless. He was going to fail.

The barking of dogs could be heard over the pounding of his heart against his ribcage. They were getting closer. He could hear gunshots, and shouts coming from behind him, and he urged his legs to keep moving. He just had to keep moving. But it was so cold. His lungs couldn't take much more, and his legs were burning. Despite the cold temperatures, sweat was beaded on his forehead and soaking through his shirt.

Hope was leaving him quickly, but a bullet tearing through the air just inches from his body renewed his vigor. He wasn't going to quit. He wasn't going to let them take him without a fight. He'd been working tirelessly for weeks to get out of the hell hole they'd created for him, and while they kept advancing on him quicker than he could move away, he wasn't going to go down without trying his damn hardest to get away.

There had to be safe haven somewhere. He didn't care if it was a freeway, or an old abandoned cabin- he just needed some kind of sign that he wasn't screwed.

Another bullet shot past him, striking the decaying trunk of a long dead pine tree. They were getting closer. They were almost on him. Where could he go? How could he get away from them? There had to be something. This couldn't be how things were going to turn out. This couldn't be the end for him.

He refused to stop running as he angled off to the right and scanned the area for help. Up ahead he spotted a large pine with branches just low enough that he might have a chance at climbing it. It was his only choice. He couldn't keep running. He was already losing speed. If he could just manage to get up that tree, he might have a chance.

He used the momentum from his already quick pace to launch himself in the air and grab the lowest of the branches. With weak arms, he fought to pull himself up, not stopping to celebrate when he managed to swing his legs over the think branch and reach for the next. He continued climbing as quickly as he could until he deemed himself to be far enough up.

Trying to calm his ragid breathing, he clutched a branch so tightly that had his hands not already been devoid of color, his knuckles would have been white from the pressure. He scanned the area, listening intently for the sounds of his pursuers, but there was nothing but silence.

Stretching out around him were the branches of pine needles covered with snow. If possible, it was even colder in the tree than it was on the ground, but he didn't allow himself to think about that. His comfort was not important. Evading capture was of the upmost importance, and he'd be damned if an intolerance to cold air was going to get him caught and sent back to that prison he'd just escaped from.

Suddenly the area below him was full of voices.

"He went this way!" One man cried, but another contradicted by saying, "no, he went that way!"

The dogs were barking, and he did everything in his power to calm himself down. If he panicked, they would find him. He just needed to remain calm. He could do it. This wasn't the first time his life had depended upon keeping his head collected. He was a trained federal agent. He could handle stressful situations. To try to take his mind off of his impending doom, he glanced skywards.

Through the dense mass of pine needles and branches, he could make out a full moon and bright stars in the sky. As the wind blew, the moon came and went, casting him in and out of darkness in an eerie way. He tried to imagine that he was on the moon instead of in that tree. On the moon he would be safe. There wouldn't be a crazy mob chasing after him. Things would be peaceful and calm and he'd have no worries.

Lost in his thoughts, by the time he noticed the creaking of the branches, it was too late. A strong hand clamped down on his ankle. Since running hadn't helped, he turned to fighting. They weren't going to take him without a fight. He'd rather have one of them shoot him.

He pulled and shook his ankle with all of his might, frantically trying to get the man to let go of him, but it was no use. His fingers were too cold, his muscles to spent. He felt himself being dragged down, his fingers slipping from the branch he clung to for dear life.

_God, no_, his mind screamed as he began to fall. _Please let me die. Please, God, please. Please don't let me survive the fall_.

He hit the ground with a sickening thud. Stars danced in front of his eyes.

If there was a God, he sure hadn't listened to him.

The men who had been chasing him descended upon his spent and broken body. They grabbed at his arms, hauling him off the ground and forcing him to his feet. Just as they began to pull him in the direction they'd come from, he lost consciousness, descending into a void of blackness. He welcomed the reprieved.

NCIS

He woke up to a pounding headache and limbs that felt like lead weights. He recognized the room he was in without having to open his eyes. It was the smell of the place that gave it away- a musty, old smell with an underlying stench of rot and decay that made his stomach roll. He had to fight to keep his gag reflex from dispelling the meager amount of nothing in his stomach.

"Why did you run away like that?" A soft voice asked from beside him, and he groaned. "We were all so worried for you, Anthony. You could have died."

He didn't tell her that he'd rather be dead than in her company. He'd given up his rebellion a long time ago, opting to remain silent. This frustrated some of his keepers, but the others paid no attention to him. This young woman kept talking as if they were having a conversation.

"You're going to be okay. The doctor patched you up as best he as he could. It's just a waiting game now. We hope that you will get better. We love you."

Mentally, he scoffed. They loved him?

"We're going to take good care of you, so I don't want you to worry about a thing," she reached out a hand and stroked his dirty hair. "You took quite the fall from that tree, but we're not going to give up on you. You're ours, and we'll make sure you come through this. Get some rest. If you need anything, I'll be right here."

He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He wanted to disappear into nothingness. He wanted to die. He'd have given anything to die.

The young woman drew her hand back, and he heard her stand up from the chair he knew was by his bedside. Her footsteps were soft as she made her way across the room. He thought that she was leaving- hoped that she was- but she stopped before she got to the door, and spoke softly to somebody whose voice he quickly recognized.

"He's doing well," she said.

"He needs to gather some of his strength back. We cannot offer something so frail and weak," a stern, male voice responded.

"I am quite positive that he'll be ready for the ritual. Its two weeks before the new moon. He has plenty of time to recover," she assured the man.

"I'll keep you at your word, Sister Agatha," the man said, and heavy footsteps signaled that he was walking towards the door. "It's too late now to find another. He's our only option, and this is our only chance."

"He is going to work," Sister Agatha promised.

She returned to sit beside him when the door snapped closed, and she stroked his hair back as she whispered to him. "This is a very important time, Anthony. You're going to save us. It's an honor to be chosen. You need to focus on getting well. Running off into the forest almost ruined everything. If you rest here and do as I say, everything will be fine. We have two weeks to prepare you for the sacrifice."

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><p><strong>AN: So what do you think? Interesting? Terrible? Let me know in a review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS

**A/N: **Thanks everybody who read, reviewed, alerted and favorited the last chapter! I loved opening my email to find all of your messages!

**Chapter 2**

**Gibbs Unwavering Loyalty**

Gibbs ran his hands down his face for the hundredth time, and blinked his bleary eyes. He'd been staring at the computer screen for two hours now, and there was nothing. Not a damn thing.

There had to be something. It had been nearly a month since Tony had disappeared, and he'd been working nonstop to find him. There had been a manhunt for DiNozzo in the beginning, when he'd first gone missing, but the search had tapered off now, and the case had gone cold. Gibbs refused to give up though. Tony was his agent, and he wasn't going to let him down.

Almost everybody thought that his Senior Field Agent had run off, but Gibbs knew that it wasn't the truth. He didn't care what they made of the events of the few days that had preceded Tony's disappearance. So what if his agent had been acting oddly. So what if Tony had threatened to quit. So what if he'd argued with Tony before forcing him into the car bound for a crime scene in West Virginia. He knew that Tony hadn't run off because he was pissed off. If Tony was going to do that, he would have at least said something before he left, and it definitely wouldn't have happened in the middle of a case.

It had been their third day at the crime scene. The tension between them had been so thick you could have scooped it up with a spoon. Tony wasn't speaking to him, and he wasn't speaking to Tony. If his agent wanted to threaten him with handing in his resignation, Gibbs wasn't going to sit on his ass and take it. If Tony was going to quit, he might as well quit.

Of course he didn't want Tony to quit. They'd been working together for so long that he didn't know what exactly he'd do without the younger man on his team, but he knew that Tony had been antsy. Something was going on with him, and when Gibbs had confronted him about his behavior, Tony had snapped at him. His concern had quickly turned to anger, and they'd both said some things that couldn't be taken back, and Tony felt even less inclined to tell him what was going on.

He'd known the moment he woke up that morning that something was terribly wrong, but he'd pushed the worry aside. They'd had an uneventful few days in WV and the danger level was minimal. He'd showered, shaved, and had a cup of coffee before meeting McGee and Ziva outside by the car. When they'd been waiting five minutes and Tony still hadn't shown up, the churning in his gut had become even more painful.

A quick search of DiNozzo's room revealed nothing. All of his bags had been packed, and the only personal belongings left lying on the bed were his badge, ID, and gun. No other evidence remained that he had ever been in that room.

The investigation into the death of their Petty Office had quickly turned into a desperate search for a missing NCIS agent. Where had DiNozzo gone? Had he left of his own free will or had he been taken? Was his disappearance connected to the murder? Gibbs had assumed so at first, and became obsessed with finding the murderer, however, once they did find him- or her, as it turned out to be the man's scorned ex-girlfriend- it was clear that Tony's disappearance had no connection to the case whatsoever.

They'd lost valuable time. Gibbs, McGee, and Ziva had worked the case for two weeks, looking into every lead, checking out everywhere Tony had gone in the days leading up to that point, looking into his bank accounts and credit cards. There was nothing that indicated anything. He'd just disappeared. He wanted to keep searching, wanted the case to be the most important on his list, but as the weeks slipped by and there was still no sign of DiNozzo, he'd been overruled. Vance refused to allow the case to remain active without any leads or proof, and the rumors that Tony had simply took off increased. Even Ziva and McGee began to speculate that Tony had just gotten fed up and left.

Abby and Ducky were no help in the matter. There was no body for Ducky to autopsy, and he'd been hesitant about making any kind of psychological evaluation other than that Tony had seemed distracted and upset lately. There had been no physical evidence for Abby to look at other than the items left behind in the hotel room, but they had yielded nothing. There was just a whole lot of nothing.

Now, a month later, Gibbs was sitting at his desk late on a Sunday night, refusing to give up. There had to be something. He just had to find it first.

**NCIS**

They stopped talking the moment he walked into the bullpen, and he knew they'd been talking about Tony. McGee had the right idea to hide his guilty face behind his computer screen, but a tough as nails Ziva locked eyes with him and refused to back down. He glared, but she didn't turn away. When he dropped into his seat behind his computer, tossing his empty coffee cup into the trash beside his desk, he intended to get to work on the pile of paperwork waiting for him, but Ziva moved with fluid motions to stand in front of his desk. He was reminded of a cat.

"You were here all night," she stated, not needing to ask.

He stared at her, not bothering to say anything. He didn't have to answer to her. He was the boss.

"We are worried about you Gibbs," Ziva admitted, setting her palms on the desk top and leaning forward so they were at eye level. "You have been working yourself into the dirt."

"If it was you, I'd be doing the same," he said.

"If it was me, you would have cause to," Ziva pointed out. "He said he was going to leave before he disappeared. He left his gun and his badge in the room. It was a clear sign that he was leaving. He could have gone about it in a more responsible and considerate manner, but you need to accept the fact that he took the cowards way out. We have not heard from him because he does not want to be heard from."

"I don't believe that Tony would ever be that stupid," Gibbs refused, shaking his mouse to pull his computer from sleep mode.

"Tony is not the brightest person on the planet," Ziva shook her head, but changed tactics when Gibbs through a glare her way. "You are working yourself too hard. If you keep this up, we are not going to be one man short, we'll be down our leader as well."

"I won't rest until he's sitting at that desk," Gibbs snapped at her, pointing over her shoulder at the desk that had been standing empty since they'd gotten back from West Virginia.

Ziva, knowing defeat when she saw it, huffed with frustration before returning to her desk. For the rest of the morning, he had to keep his temper in check as she continued to shoot him furtive glances. He didn't need her to worry for him. He needed her to worry for Tony. When had it ever been acceptable to leave a teammate behind when it was unclear what exactly had happened to them? Gibbs didn't condone such behavior, and he wasn't about to start to accept it himself. Ziva and McGee may have taken the rumors to heart, but Gibbs wouldn't believe it until he was hearing it confirmed straight from Tony's own mouth. He'd known the man for over ten years, and he wasn't about to throw that away on some suspicious behavior and a bunch of rumors.

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><p><strong>AN: **So there's the second chapter for you! Let me know what you think of it! I love hearing your opinions!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS

**A/N: **This chapter contains some graphic material...no blood and guts or anything, but a very desperate Tony looking for a way out.

**Chapter 3**

**An Unlikely Friendship with the Toilet Bowl**

Sister Agatha could pretend to be sweet as pie, but Tony knew better. She could profess that she loved him as many time as she wanted, but Tony knew the truth. He didn't care if his role in the upcoming festival was one he was supposed to accept with welcoming arms. He could never accept sacrifice as anything other than murder. These psychotic people were planning on murdering him in the name of some alien god that he was sure had been made up by some teenagers overactive imagination, and sweet as pie Sister Agatha was helping them along.

She forced him to eat and drink the food that she brought to him. If he refused it, she forced it into his mouth and held a hand over his face to block his air passages, forcing him to swallow so he could breathe. It was easier just to eat what was offered, even though he knew it was drugged. Only minutes after he'd take the first bite his head would be swimming, and his eyes would be drooping.

It seemed that they had learned their lesson after his first attempt to escape. While at first they had simply drugged and watched him, he was now held to the bed by a pair of leather cuffs. Initially the cuffs had been metal, but he'd pulled and tugged and fussed with them so much that they'd cut into his flesh and made him bleed. Some sadistic part of his brain had been pleased when he'd seen just how far the metal cuffs had managed to penetrate his flesh- maybe they would slice through his artery and he would bleed to death. Instead, Sister Agatha had removed the cuffs while he slept and replaced them with soft leather ones that made him unable to make the gashes any deeper.

In all honesty, he wanted to die. He'd long ago given up on the chance of a rescue. After all, he was a cop, and he knew that the odds of anybody finding him became slimmer and slimmer as time passed by. He was never going to be found. That left him with only two options- escape or die. He'd tried escaping, but that had ended badly on his part, which left him with only death as his way out. While they planned on killing him anyway, he didn't want to give them the satisfaction. He'd rather die at his own hand then let them end his life. At least that way he'd be able to stick it to them by denying them what they sought.

Suicide was proving to be difficult though. He was chained to that bed and only allowed up when he needed to use the facilities. Without the metal handcuffs, there was nothing that he could use. He'd tried intentionally choking on the drugged food they insisted he eat, but that had been impossible. He wanted to die, but his body didn't. Today he had a plan though.

Sister Agatha let him up to pee when he woke up in the early afternoon. She unlocked the leather restraints and led him across the room to the bathroom he'd become familiar with. She never went inside with him, and he always closed the door. It was the only time he was ever allowed any privacy, and the small space had become a sort of sanctuary for him. It was only fitting that he die in the only place he'd found comfort since arriving in that god awful place.

The sink was too risky. Sister Agatha would suspect something if she heard the sink going for so long, so he bypassed it and pulled up the seat on the toilet. The porcelain bowl was full of water, and he forced the air out of his lungs before submerging his head in it. There was no time to debate and think. He had very little time before Sister Agatha came storming in demanded to know why he was taking so long.

It was fine at first, but then came the pain. His lungs began to burn and he gripped the toilet seat with white fingers, forcing himself not to let go. He couldn't let go. He couldn't. If he didn't die now, he was going to be forced to go through another week in this hell hole. He couldn't stand the thought of it.

Everything was beginning to go black. He inhaled a mouthful of water and choked on it, but he forced his face further into the toilet bowl. He was not going to let his body's desire for air stop him from doing what must be done. He needed to die. He was going to die. It was the only remaining option, and this was his last chance.

NCIS

_No! No! No! No! No! _His mind was screaming at him as his consciousness returned. He wasn't dead. His plan had failed. He was back in the uncomfortable bed, leather cuffs retraining him to the bed, and a fuzzy feeling in his head. With each breath that he took, his lungs ached. He couldn't believe it. While he'd been drugged up beyond his wits end when he'd made that plan, he'd been sure that it was fool proof. He'd said his goodbyes to the world before he'd gone in that bathroom, and he'd been positive that he wasn't coming out alive.

"That was a terrible thing you tried," Sister Agatha chastised him when she'd noticed he was awake. "You scared me to within an inch of my life. It was truly horrific. You will never try anything like that again."

Tony wasn't listening. He didn't care. He didn't care about her, or her stupid cult. He didn't care about himself. He gave up. There was nothing left. In a week, he was going to be sacrifice and there was nothing he could do to stop it. It was too late. There was no magic miracle. There was no more suicide. There was nothing. Nothing mattered.

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><p><strong>AN: **Poor depressed Tony :-(

Let me know what you think of this chapter!

**Also, **don't forget to check out This Ren on facebook! I'd love to see you there :-)


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS.

**A/N: **First off, thanks to everybody who reviewed, alerted, and favorited the last chapter! I really appreciate it and I'm glad that you are all enjoying this story so much. Each and every time my phone signaled that I had a new review, I was one happy duck :-)

Secondly, I'm saddened to have to say that I've had to disable anonymous reviews for the time being. As much as I love reading most of what those people who send me anonymous reviews have to say, unfortunately a few select "people" have decided to harass me using the anonymous review feature. While I love hearing critiques of my work (my pride is not so weak as to take offense to a well intentioned remark that can improve the reading experience of my stories), it is completely uncalled for to send me multiple anonymous reviews attacking me, attacking the idea behind my story, and attacking the people whose stories I read and enjoy. Hopefully, they will soon get the message that their childish games, while they may frustrate me when I'm having a bad day, are not going to discourage me from writing here on or anywhere else.

**Chapter 4**

**A Much Need Lead**

"Special Agent Gibbs?" A voice called out as Gibbs made his way to the door of the crowded coffee shop.

It was a bright and sunny Tuesday morning, and after a night of little sleep and horrific nightmares, Gibbs was in desperate need for coffee. He'd had two cups before he left the house, but he needed more. The line inside of his coffee shop made him groan, but he'd wait in line anyway. He needed his morning pick me up to keep him from going insane. With his mood so foul, he nearly snapped at the woman he called out to him before he could pull the glass door open.

"Can I help you?" He asked curtly, trying not to let his annoyance seep into his tone.

"I have some information for you," the woman told him, reaching into her purse and rummaging around for something.

Gibbs took the opportunity to look her over. She was a plain looking woman with hair the color of straw pulled back into a braid that descended past her bum. Her outfit consisted of a simple brown dress and plain black boots. The bag she carried over one shoulder was more of a tote and seemed to carry more than the contents of his desk. Just as he was becoming impatient with her, she withdrew a crunched up piece of paper and handed it to him. He didn't need to smooth it out to see that it was a missing persons notice containing the familiar face of Anthony DiNozzo.

"Do you know where he is?" Gibbs demanded, leading her over to a table across the patio, all thoughts of coffee gone.

"No," the woman admitted, lowering herself into a chair across from him. "But I may have some information that can help you find him."

Gibbs was eager for anything that she might have to say. This was the only person who had come forward with any kind of information in five weeks. If she had any information, any at all, he would accept it.

"I recognized his name," the woman said, reaching into her bag again. "Anthony DiNozzo. I wasn't sure at first if it was him, but once I saw that picture, I knew it for sure. He has his mother's eyes, god rest her soul."

Gibbs waited without prompting her, but reached for the scrap of paper she offered to him when she finally pulled her hand from the bag. It was an old photograph with a young kid and a woman who couldn't have been older than thirty.

"I've held onto that picture for these last thirty years. He was such a sweet boy, I didn't want to forget him. Everybody who knew him loved him. I think that's why he became The One," she sighed, tracing the child's face when Gibbs set the photo on the table top.

"The One?" Gibbs had no idea what this woman was talking about.

"Yes, The One," she nodded. "The One to change the world."

"And how's he supposed to do that?" Gibbs was ready to dismiss the woman as crazy. He didn't need crazy, he need concrete.

"On the full moon, he'll be sacrificed to Bolojok, the leader of the Alien planet Morgatok. His death will call Bolojok to Earth, and he will grant them the gift of eternal and everlasting life. With their gift, they will take control of world and lead us into the third world," the woman explained.

With a sigh, Gibbs pushed himself up from his chair. "Listen, lady. This man, my agent, is missing. Crackpot stories aren't going to help me find him."

"It's not a story!" She cried, grabbed his hand to stop him from leaving. "This is what they believe. This is why they've taken him."

"Who?" Gibbs asked.

"The Entity. They're a cult," she replied. "I know it sounds crazy, but I'm telling you the truth. The Entity believes that Morgatok orbits around the universe, and upon certain dates it is within the distance required to perform the ritual to call Bolojok to instill them with their gifts. This year is one of those years, and the next isn't for another hundred. They've chosen Anthony as the one to sacrifice, and when the new moon arrives, and Morgatok is at its closest to Earth, they will hold a festival to call Bolojok. If Anthony is a good sacrifice, Bolojok will give The Entity the gifts they seek, but if he is not, they have lost their chance to ask until Morgatok comes back into orbit."

"That is crazy," Gibbs couldn't help but say in response.

"It is, but they've managed to convince a group of people that they're telling the truth. Anthony was able to escape, with the help of his mother, the last time Morgatok was in orbit, but they're much more desperate this time. They believe that Anthony is the only one who can successfully be sacrificed. They'll have taken him and spent all of this time preparing him for the festival. In a week, on the night of the new moon, they will sacrifice him," she explained.

"How do you know all of this?" Gibbs demanded.

She looked sheepish as she said, "I used to belong to The Entity. I allowed their fancy words to entrance me, but after I saw what they were capable of, after I saw that they were going to kill a sweet little boy, I knew it was wrong. They are nothing more than a group of crazy sociopaths. You must stop them before they get their chance to kill him."

Later, Gibbs found himself pondering what the woman had told him while he stood in line for his coffee. Cecilia Andrews, as she'd introduced herself before she left, had sounded insane as she told him about alien gods and sacrificial rituals, but he'd been an NCIS agent for too long to believe that there weren't crazy people in the world. If this cult actually existed, it was possible that what she'd told him was the truth.

Back in the bullpen, he was happy to see that Ziva wasn't there. He wasn't in the mood to deal with her after the meeting he'd just had. McGee was sitting at his desk, typing furiously on his computer, but looked up when Gibbs approached him.

"I need you to do me a favor," Gibbs said, rounding the desk and leaning down to speak in his agents ear.

"Of course Boss," McGee nodded.

"Cecelia Andrews. I want to know everything you can find on her," Gibbs told him. "And this is strictly between you and me."

**NCIS**

Waiting for the information from McGee was taking too long. He had never been a patient man. When McGee finally approached him on Wednesday morning when Ziva went out to use the ladies room, Gibbs breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Cecelia Andrews, 46 years old, born in Beaumont, Virginia," McGee told him, handing Gibbs a file. "She's been in and out of mental hospitals for the majority of her life. Her most recent stint was in Maryland State Psychiatric Facility. She has a number of anxiety and depression issues. She's attempted suicide twice. No children, never been married, and she's not allowed a driver's license. She currently lives in Beaumont with a brother."

Gibbs wasn't surprised.

"Did you find any connection between her and a cult called The Entity?" Gibbs wondered, not bothering to look through the file.

"Uh," McGee gulped, "yeah, Boss. When she was admitted into MSPF the first time, thirty years ago, she was going on about The Entity and some crazy alien stuff."

"I want you to find me everything you can about this cult. I want to know where they are, who they are, what they are, everything. Now," Gibbs said.

"What is this about, Gibbs?" McGee wondered, sitting back down at his desk, but looking to Gibbs instead of his computer.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs responded, and it was the only answer he needed to give before McGee was furiously typing away at his keyboard.

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><p><strong>AN: **So I know the alien stuff was kind of crazy, but I figured that since the people are already crazy, it made sense to have beliefs that were just as insane- and I didn't want to use a mainstream religion (because I wasn't comfortable with the lacking amount of knowledge I have on them, and I don't want to offend anybody who does practice them). Everything about this cult is made up. It's all a figment of my imagination.

**Let me know what you think of this! I'm eager to hear your thoughts!**

**Also, if you haven't already, don't forget to look up This Ren on Facebook!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS...or anything affiliated with NCIS...I just like putting the characters of my favorite show through hell because I am a mean and sadistic person.

**A/N: **So the Tony scenes are going to be tapering off from here. He's all depressed and given up with no way to escape, so there's not much more to say on that. It'll be mostly in Gibbs POV from here on out.

**Chapter 5**

**Good Job, McGee**

He wasn't allowed to use the bathroom by himself anymore, but he didn't care. He didn't care about anything. He let Sister Agatha shovel drugged food into his mouth, and swallowed it without protest. He sipped the drugged water through a straw without pretending to gag. He let the foggy sleep claim him without trying to make any kinds of plans to escape. He didn't try suicide. He didn't try to run. He just didn't care. He was going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it. Hope had gotten him this far, but hope had deserted him in his final days.

NCIS

The blue and red lights of the cop cars flashed across Gibbs face as he stood outside of the Andrews home. He didn't try to get past the officers stationed behind the yellow tape, but he'd flashed his badge at one to get information on what was going on. He'd made the trip to Beaumont, Virginia to speak with Cecelia Andrews about her time in The Entity, but what he'd found instead was a crime scene.

An officer had kindly informed him that somebody had broken into the residence in an attempt to burglarize the property, had been confronted by Ms. Cecelia Andrews and stabbed her thirteen times. He really should have felt bad for Ms. Andrews, but the only thing that was going through Gibbs mind was the fact that his lead was gone. He'd had somebody who could help him find Tony, and now she was dead and he was back at square one.

McGee had found very little on The Entity during his research. The junior agent- because he wouldn't be the Senior Field Agent until Gibbs was sure that Tony wasn't coming back- had told him pretty much the same thing that Cecilia Andrews had told him when she'd come to see him at the coffee shop. The Entity wanted to summon Bolojok from Morgatok by sacrificing an individual deemed worthy so they could take over the world and enslave the human race to do the bidding of Bolojok. It was completely crazy.

He'd decided to speak to Cecelia Andrews again to see if he could get more information out of her, but as of an hour before he arrived, she was dead. He had a rule about not believing in coincidences, but there was no way he could get more information on the case. It was outside of his jurisdiction, and he had no way to take over the case. He was screwed.

Getting back into his car and setting a course out for D.C. and NCIS, Gibbs went over what his next plan of action would be. It was Wednesday afternoon, and if Cecilia Andrews was correct, Tony had only until Saturday's new moon before he was sacrificed in the name of some crazy alien. That gave him only three days to figure out where The Entity was and what he could do to get inside and free Tony. He'd told McGee to get him everything, but so far the younger man had been unable to find a location or names of any of its members.

Just as he was pulling into the parking lot in front of the building, his cell phone began to ring. The caller ID told him it was McGee calling, and he answered it without pause, hoping that the junior agent had anything that he could work with.

"What have you got, McGee?" Gibbs asked, stepping out of the car and slamming the door behind him.

"A location," McGee replied excitedly, making Gibbs freeze in his tracks. "I traced The Entity to a small plot of property in Charlotteville, North Carolina."

"Get Ziva, let's go," Gibbs said.

He didn't care if Ziva thought he was pushing it or going crazy in his attempt to get to the bottom of Tony's disappearance. He needed her help, especially if they were going to the compound of The Entity. He would need all hands on deck to pull off a rescue mission.

He ignored the youngest agent when she told him that the rescue mission was insane. They were going. There were no negotiations unless she wanted to find herself a new job. That had shut her up.

"The guy leading this thing is named Joshua Hopkins," McGee read from his computer as they drove down the highway at nearly a hundred miles an hour. "He's been under scrutiny by the FBI for leading several cults. The property is owned by him, and residents say that there's been an increase in activity in recent weeks. If The Entity has Tony, that's where he'll be."

"Good job, McGee," Gibbs tossed him a verbal cookie.

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><p><strong>AN: **Can it really be that easy? You'll find out in the next chapter :-)

Leave me a review and let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS.

**A/N: **This is an itty bitty chapter...and not very happy :-(

**Chapter 6**

**Nothing**

There was nothing in Charlotteville, North Carolina. McGee fumbled with his computer as he tried to come up with some kind of explanation for the mistake while Gibbs and Ziva paced back and forth across the deserted property. There was not so much as a single building, and the buildup of undisturbed weeds and plants indicated that nobody had been there in quite some time.

Gibbs was furious. He'd trusted that McGee knew what he was doing, but instead of leading them to Tony, he'd led them to an abandoned, overgrown piece of property as far off the beaten path as one could get. They weren't anywhere near Tony, or The Entity, or any kind of concrete lead.

"There is no point in staying. There is nothing here," Ziva sighed as she ceased her pacing and turned to face the car.

"There has to be an explanation. There has to be something here," McGee shook his head from where he sat in the backseat of the car with his legs dangling out of the open door, his laptop propped open on his lap and his eyes darting back and forth across the screen.

As much as Gibbs wanted to believe that they were missing something, his gut was telling him that they were so far off that they weren't even on the same map as Tony. McGee could fiddle with his damn computer all he wanted, but the lead was a dead end.

"Let's head back," he told the two younger agents, heading back to the car. "We can get more done back in Washington."

McGee apologized profusely the entire way back to the Navy Yard until Ziva turned around in her seat and told informed him, with no form of subtly, that if he didn't close his mouth, she was going to use her sunglasses to cut his tongue off. Deciding it was not worth it to keep talking, McGee zipped his lips and turned his gaze out the window. His mood much worse than it had been when they set off, Gibbs was thankful for the silence. If McGee so much as opened his mouth one more time, Ziva would have to stand in line to inflict bodily harm on him.

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><p><strong>AN: **Guess McGee isn't going to get that cookie anymore, is he?

Let me know you think!


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS...just a few DVD box sets.

**A/N: **Sorry it's taken a little longer to get this latest chapter out. Life has been busy lately, and now that summer has finally set in, staying in the house on the computer sounds very unappealing compared to being outside gardening, swimming, and playing badminton :-) It should not take so long for me to post the next chapter.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed! If I didn't respond to your review individually, I apologize! I really appreciate every single review you guys have sent me for this story! I'm happy it's getting such good feedback by so many people and they keep me wanting to post!

**Chapter 7**

**Hinky**

For days there was nothing. He'd checked with the local PD in Beaumont, Virginia to check on the progress of Cecilia Andrews murder investigation, but no information had been found and the case was quickly going cold before it had even had a chance to really start. Gibbs had not enjoyed finding out that bit of information, and returned to his own work with a scowl. The only lead he'd gotten was dead, and there were no new prospects on the horizon. His gut told him that Cecilia Andrews had been truthful with him that morning she'd accosted him in front of the coffee shop, but she was of no use to him dead.

It was just after eight o'clock on Friday evening when his phone began to ring. Checking the caller ID, the name Tony DiNozzo Sr. flashed before his eyes. He groaned. While the man had never been a great father, he'd been trying to make amends with his only son. When Tony had disappeared, it was Gibbs who'd had the misfortune of having to inform his father. Part of him had hoped, during that first call, that Senior would tell him that Tony had been in contact with him and he was safe and sound taking some time off, but he'd received the opposite news. He hadn't heard from Tony in days, and was worried because they were supposed to meet for drinks when he returned from West Virginia.

That evening, Gibbs did not want to speak to the elder DiNozzo. He knew that the older man wanted a status update on the investigation, and Gibbs didn't want to admit that they had nothing. He'd been fielding the calls from Senior for weeks, pretending to be busy with cases and looking for Tony, but he knew he couldn't keep the information he'd learned from Cecelia Andrews to himself. Senior needed to know what Gibbs knew, even if they were as far from finding Tony as they had been before the lead had come in.

"Gibbs," he said into the small device when he'd raised it to his ear.

"Any news on Junior?" DiNozzo asked without saying hello- after so many calls, he knew how Gibbs worked.

"We haven't found him," Gibbs gave him the bad news first. "We got a lead earlier this week, but it didn't pan out."

"What was it?" DiNozzo's voice was clipped with anger and frustration, partly towards Gibbs, but mostly towards the entire fucked up situation they were in.

"A woman informed us that Tony was being held by a cult called The Entity," Gibbs said.

He drummed his fingers on the desktop, thankful that he was alone in the bullpen. McGee had gone downstairs to speak to Abby only five minutes earlier and wasn't expected back, and Ziva had gone home for the night. He didn't want to speak to DiNozzo Sr. in front of either of his agents. He didn't like the way they looked at him when he got to talking about Tony- looks that told him that he should stop trying to make this situation into something that it wasn't. Having worked together for so long, Gibbs couldn't quite understand how Tony's teammates could possibly think that he'd run off. It was not in Tony's character to do such a thing.

"Those whack jobs? What have they got to do with this?" DiNozzo fumed, catching Gibbs off guard.

"You know of them?" He pressed.

"Of course I know of them! They killed my wife!" DiNozzo cried indignantly.

Killed his wife?

"When?" Gibbs asked, reaching for a pen and a notepad so he could take notes.

"When Junior was just a boy. They lured her into their freak club, and when she tried to leave they chased her down and killed her. It traumatized Junior in the process. It was…covered up, made to look like an accident. I didn't want anybody to know that she'd had any part in that group," DiNozzo admitted.

"Why didn't you try to prosecute them for her murder?" Gibbs demanded, a new anger bubbling up inside of him.

"I needed proof that they'd done it first. They're good at erasing their tracks. I hired a private detective to get me what I needed, but he went off the deep end and joined them! The psycho. I'm glad I only paid him a deposit for his services, or I'd have been out a big lump of money," DiNozzo explained himself. "Idiots kept coming to the door after Junior was brought back to me. They kept wanting to see him. I sent them all away."

"Did they say why they wanted to see him?" Gibbs was reeling.

Why hadn't he called Tony's father after he'd gotten the information from Cecilia Andrews? Tony had been a child during his first round with The Entity. DiNozzo Senior would have known all of the details, or at least some of them. It was a grievous oversight on his part to have overlooked the man.

"He was instrumental to their belief system. They wanted to take him to their compound to perform some kind of ritual. They kept saying he wanted to do it, but I wasn't going to let them anywhere near my boy. His mother had gotten messed up in their bullshit and it got her killed. It wasn't going to get Junior killed too, so I sent him away to school, where they wouldn't be able to get to him," DiNozzo replied.

"Their compound in Charlotteville?"

"Charlotteville? No. They have some facility in Pennsylvania. Outside of Eddington. They wanted me to drive him out there," DiNozzo corrected.

Pennsylvania? Why had McGee taken them to North Carolina if the facility was in Pennsylvania? It couldn't have been too difficult to figure out where they were calling home. Sure, there was the chance that they had moved, but surely McGee would have been able to check which address was their current address.

"What's going on Gibbs? Have those idiots taken my boy? What are they doing with him?" DiNozzo demanded of him, but Gibbs had other things on his mind.

"I'll call you back when I have more information," he promised the older man.

He flipped the phone shut and was hurrying down to Abby's lab only milliseconds later. His intent was to question McGee on why exactly he'd led them to the wrong place, but the younger man was nowhere to be found.

"He's left," Abby told him when he asked for the junior agents location. "He said he was going home."

"Damn it!" Gibbs thundered.

He very quickly explained to Abby what he'd been talking with DiNozzo Senior about, and she agreed that it was hinky of McGee to lead him to North Carolina. She promised to look into the facility in Pennsylvania for him, and he accepted her help readily. This was for Tony, and time was quickly running out. The new moon was almost upon them. She promised to call him with all of the information she could dig up, and he kissed her cheek before taking off, hoping to find McGee in the parking lot.

He was too late, but only by a hair. He saw the taillights of his younger agents car stopping at the gate just as he entered the lot. Without thinking, Gibbs jumped behind the wheel of his own car, reversed out of the parking space, and followed. He'd follow McGee back to his apartment and confront him there. He was getting his answers no matter what.

McGee didn't stop at his apartment, however. Gibbs followed him onto the freeway, heading north. His gut told him where McGee was headed before Abby called and said she'd easily located the whereabouts of The Entities facility and that she would text it to him. He thanked her before hanging up, knowing he'd been duped. The facility had not moved from its location in the fifty years it had been running.

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><p><strong>AN: **What is McGee up to? This can't be good...

Let me know what you think of this latest chapter!


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **If you think that I own NCIS, than you are sorely mistaken.

**A/N: **1) Sorry it's taken so long for me to post this chapter. I've been very busy lately. VERY busy. So busy, that for a little while there I thought I was going to go insane from sleep deprivation. Now that everything in my chaotic life is less busy, I can update again.

2) I appreciate everybody who reviewed the last chapter! Thank you all so much! I didn't get the chance to respond to any reviews, but each one of them made me smile, and I was very happy to hear what everybody had to say. All (or most) of your questions about McGee will be answered in this chapter. I hope you enjoy it!

3) The next chapter, barring some unforeseen incident that prevents it, will be posted on Tuesday, along the original schedule of every other day.

**Chapter 8**

**Bitter**

Tony was tired. Very tired. He slept for the better part of the day, but the drugs that they continued to pump into him through his food and water supply made him groggy and fuzzy whenever he was conscious. He didn't bother fighting his captors, or demonstrating his usual sarcastic wit for them. Why bother? It wasn't going to get him out of here. It was time to stop fighting and accept that his life was going to end in 24 hours. The depression that clouded over him blocked out any kind of hope that might have existed.

"Tony, wake up," a soft voice called to him.

He offered no response to the voice. He didn't care to answer.

"Wake up, Tony," the voice said with more force, and he felt a hand shoving at his shoulder.

Why wouldn't he just leave him alone? Didn't he understand that he didn't want to talk to him?

"Why do you always have to be so difficult?" The familiar voice sighed. "You can never make anything easy. Not a single thing. At least I'm not going to have to deal with you anymore after tomorrow night. That's just another perk to this whole sacrifice thing. You're not going to come out alive."

Tony didn't understand, but he was past the point of caring. Nothing mattered anymore.

To say that he'd been shocked to see McGee at the compound when he first arrived was an understatement. The moment they'd pulled the black bag from his head and he'd seen his partner staring at him from just a few feet away he'd thought everything had been a joke, but McGee had not been joking. The steely glint in the younger man's eyes had made it perfectly clear that this was no game.

He had never bothered to question McGee. Why should he? The man was clearly no friend of his, and everything he'd learned about him over the last 9 years had been nothing but lies. The only thing that was clear to him was that he'd never known Timothy McGee as he thought he had.

"Tomorrow night you'll be sacrificed, and everything will fall into place," McGee said when Tony didn't say anything. "I'll have everything that was ever promised to me and I won't have to deal with you anymore. It's like a dream come true. You have no way out. Gibbs will never find you."

Mentally, he laughed bitterly. It was the only emotion he'd allowed himself to feel since his last failed suicide attempt. It seemed right, he decided, that he would die feeling bitter. After all, how had life ever been fair to him?

"Gibbs has certainly been a pain in the ass," McGee sighed. "Nobody has been able to convince him to stop his foolish quest to rescue you. Not Abby, not Ziva, not Ducky, or Vance. I tried to lead him down the wrong path. I gave him the wrong information every time he asked for it, but somehow he kept getting leads and information. They certainly call him the best for a reason, but he's out of time now. He's in the dark and you're lost to him. I win."

Tony was not compelled to offer a response, though his blood was beginning to boil in his veins. How could he not have realized that McGee was a sick and twisted individual? How had he possible overlooked that? It was very, very clear to him now.

"Now, get some rest, Tony. I'll see you in the morning when the festival starts," McGee ended his rant.

Tony listened to his footsteps on the hardwood floor until the door was closed and he left in silence. Oh yes, he was very bitter.

**NCIS**

Gibbs watched through the window. He'd followed McGee all the way to the small town in Pennsylvania that DiNozzo Sr. had told him about on the phone earlier that night. Luckily, the younger agent had not spotted him on the nearly deserted roads, and he'd fallen behind as they came up to the compound. Sneaking in was not difficult. He left the car on the road and hiked the short distance after McGee's car. Security was very lax.

It hadn't been hard to find Tony, and his entire body had gone tense as he watched his junior agent interact with the man he had helped abduct. The thin walls and window glass made it all too possible for him to hear what was being said, and more than anything, he wanted knock McGee over the head over and over until he was a mass of blood and brain goo.

How stupid could he have been to not see that McGee was part of a cult? He'd trusted the man with his six for years. He'd never questioned anything he did, no matter how bizarre it had seemed at the time. He was kicking himself for that now. McGee had been leading him on a wild goose chase for weeks. He'd known where Tony was the entire time. A sinking feeling in his gut told Gibbs that McGee was probably behind the death of Ceclia Andrews.

When McGee left the room, Gibbs took a deep breath and prepared to leave the window. He wasn't worried about following the bastard anymore. He'd found Tony, and the younger man needed to be his first priority. He'd get Tony out of there, and then bust McGee, and the rest of the cult, for their role in Tony's abduction and imprisonment.

Pulling out his phone, he found Ziva's number easily. Thinking about it now, he should have called her when he first suspected McGee's involvement. The phone had only just begun to ring when the snapping of a twig behind him told him he wasn't alone. Just as he turned around, catching a glimpse of McGee's face, a large, hard object smacked into the side of his head, sending him into the darkness of unconsciousness.

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><p><strong>AN: **What do yo think? Let me know in a review!


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS. I just like to play with the characters a little bit.

**A/N: **1) Yes, I know this chapter is very, very, very, very late. I would apologize, but it's a sign of weakness. Honestly, I've been really busy. Between some personal things I have going on and work, I've barely had time to sleep for the recommended time that is good for my health. While I thought things had settled down, I jinxed myself by saying that they had.

2) I was unable to respond individually, but I appreciate each and every single review I got on the last chapter. Life will eventually settle back down and allow me to respond to reviews in time, hopefully. Until then, know that I really, really, really do appreciate all of your reviews! I also appreciate story alerts, favorites, and author alerts!

3) As I mentioned in the first chapter, this story is finished, so don't worry about it being abandoned. I'm just too busy to edit and post right now. There might be delays in posting, but I'll get around to it when I get the chance.

4) Just so you know, this note is probably longer than the chapter itself.

**Chapter 9**

As he slowly regained consciousness, the first thing Gibbs realized was that his head was throbbing. Without opening his eyes, he reached up to touch his temple, only to feel the stickiness of half dried blood on his skin. He gently probed the gash with his fingers, causing more blood to leak from it, but determined it was not bad enough to require prompt medical attention- which he obviously hadn't received. When he forced himself to sit up, pushing on the hard, cold ground with shaky hands, the spinning, even with his eyes closed, worried him more than the cut.

"Good morning Gibbs," McGee's voice cut through the fog that had settled in his brain, and his eyes snapped open immediately as he recalled why he'd been unconscious in the first place.

The light was dim, but still made his head throb harder. Tony was lying on a bed not far from him, his green eyes open and staring at him, but Gibbs couldn't reach him thanks to the metals shackle locked around his ankle. It connected a short chain, which was hooked to a metal loop on the floor. He could move his leg no more than a foot from the loop, and even if he laid out straight and reached as far as he could, he would not be able to reach Tony.

"I should have realized you were following me," McGee chuckled from where he was standing near the door, leaning against the wooden wall with his arms crossed over his chest. "I blame it on my excitement for the festivities tonight. I was so eager to return, I didn't bother to keep track of who might be following me here."

Gibbs just gazed at him, processing his attitude and posture. McGee was relaxed, and in good spirits while his eyes held that darkness that Gibbs was not used to seeing in them. It startled him how little they had all come to mean to the younger man. He wanted to sacrifice his partner to some alien god. He was happy to do it. After so many years of working with them, they meant nothing to him. It was a startling revelation to behold.

A soft voice called McGee's name from somewhere outside the open door, and McGee sent Gibbs one final smirk before he unfolded his arms and left, pulling the door closed behind him.

Gibbs wasted no time. He needed to remove the shackle and get Tony out of there. The sun outside the window told him that it was at least ten o'clock in the morning, leaving him very little time to get Tony to safety before the sacrifice. Pulling at the metal cuff, he was discouraged that despite the accumulated rust, it was still strong- too strong for him to pull apart. Looking around the room, he hoped to find the key somewhere, but there was nothing.

After some time and a very rubbed raw ankle, Gibbs set his sights on Tony. His senior field agent was still staring at him with wide eyes, but he hadn't said a word or moved a muscle since Gibbs had woken up. There were no emotions playing out on Tony's face, or in his eyes. He simply stared at Gibbs as if taking in that he was there, but not really caring about it.

"You with me, DiNozzo?" Gibbs called to him, but wasn't surprised when he didn't get a response.

He didn't think Tony was actually there. Physically, yes, but mentally? Gibbs assumed Tony's mind was so far away from that place that it had taken up residence on another planet.

**NCIS**

Tony watched Gibbs work at the metal cuff attached to his ankle, and he wanted to call out to him that the key was, in fact, in the drawer of the small table beside him, but he couldn't. After all, Gibbs wasn't really here. In his last few hours of life, his brain was playing a trick on him. The drugs in his system were making him hallucinate. He wasn't going to be taken in by a trick of his mind. It would only give him hope, and he'd already decided that hope would only hurt him in the end.

It wasn't like this was the first time he'd ever hallucinated either. Hallucinations were common, especially ones about Gibbs coming to his rescue. He didn't believe them anymore. What was the point? There was no hope. Gibbs wasn't coming to rescue him. He was going to die, no matter what a hallucination said to him.

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><p><strong>AN: **So there's chapter 9. Let me know what you think of it!


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS. I just like to play with the characters.

**A/N: **New chapter! Yay! Just one little thing: I'm toying with the idea of writing a sequel to this. Would you be interested in reading it? Let me know in a comment!

**Chapter 10**

Abby was freaking out. No, she was beyond freaking out. Pacing back and forth across her lab, her thoughts were running a million miles a minute. She had called Gibbs several times since he'd left the night before, but he hadn't answered a single one. She'd left more voicemail messages than a psychotic stalker would have, but he hadn't called her back. There had been no word from him, and it was driving her insane.

She tried to reason with herself. What's the worst thing that could have happened to him? That didn't make her feel any better as her thoughts drifted from 'he went home to bed' to 'he was in a terrible car accident'. What if the crazy psycho McGee had done something to him? She had done some digging after Gibbs left to chase down the junior agent, and she hadn't liked what she found.

There were charges to his credit card from a small town right outside of the compound, and he's given more than a small amount of money to Joshua Hopkins, leader of The Entity. McGee was one of them. Abby knew it deep inside her heart- it spoke to her like Gibbs gut spoke to him. She wasn't surprised in the least to learn that McGee had been with The Entity since long before he'd joined NCIS. Her mind had instantly filled with conspiracy theories and scenarios of McGee torturing and killing both Tony and Gibbs.

_One last time_, Abby decided as she picked up her phone. _I'll call him one more time._

His was the first number on her speed dial, even before her family, and she was listening to the shrill ring of the phone only seconds later. She was positive it was going to go to voicemail again when a click on the line sounded, and she perked up. Perhaps she'd been wrong. Maybe he _had _just been sleeping! No such luck. Her heart sank when she heard the familiar voice on the other side of the line.

"What are you doing with Gibbs phone, McGee?" Abby demanded the moment he greeted her.

"He left it at my place last night," McGee responded. "He came by to talk about Tony and I just found it on my couch."

It smelled hinky, and Abby was triangulating the call before he's finished answering her question.

"What time did he leave? I've been trying to call him all day," Abby played along with his explanation as she watched her computer work.

"It was late. Really late. He bounced a couple ideas off of me about where Tony might be, but we didn't really come up with anything new. He probably fell asleep under his boat and hasn't realized his phone is missing yet," McGee told her.

"It's not like Gibbs to forget his phone," Abby chewed on her lip in frustration, willing her baby to work faster.

"He was pretty upset last night," McGee insisted. "He's positive that Tony's going to die tonight. I tried to convince him otherwise, but he wouldn't hear it. He probably drank too much bourbon and passed out in the basement like he usually does. I'm sure there's nothing to worry about."

The computer beeped, signaling its search results, and Abby narrowed her eyes. If McGee had just found Gibbs phone in his couch, why was his cell signal coming from Pennsylvania?

"Come with me to check on him." Abby used her best acting skills to plead with McGee. She might not be able to keep secrets very well, but that was with her friends, and McGee was no longer her friend.

"I would, but I've promised a friend that I would help her move. I've walking out the door right now," McGee lied smoothly.

"Which friend?" Abby prodded.

"Darla. You haven't met her," McGee replied.

"And this Darla is more important than Gibbs? He could be dead in a ditch somewhere, McGee!" Abby snapped at him.

"I'm sure he's fine, Abs," McGee sighed. "I've got to go. If you hear from Gibbs, let him know I have his phone and to give me a call."

Abby hung up without saying goodbye, her eyes still fixed on the computer screen in front of her. There was no denying it now. Even if she'd held out a small sliver of hope before that the information she'd found on McGee was false, she couldn't believe he was still good now. He was part of The Entity, and he'd done something with Gibbs. She had to take a deep breath to steady herself before she approached her computer to set about making a plan.

**NCIS**

McGee turned the phone off the moment he hung up with Abby. He felt confident that she didn't suspect him of anything. He'd known Abby long enough to know that she could never hide her true feelings or keep secrets. If she was onto him, he would have heard it in her voice. Satisfied with his excuse and how the conversation had gone, McGee tucked the cell phone into his pocket.

He wasn't fool enough to believe that Gibbs had followed him to the compound for any reason other than that he suspected him of wrong doing. The only way that Gibbs would know that he'd lied about the property in Charlotteville is if he's checked with Abby about the location of The Entity. Gibbs must have sniffed out his disloyalty and followed him to the compound to stop him and rescue Tony. Talking with Abby confirmed to him that she'd known Gibbs was going to speak with him, but also that the boss had not confided in her why the conversation was necessary. Abby suspected him of nothing.

This all worked out in his favor. Abby thought that Gibbs had left the phone at his apartment the night before. When he returned to DC and work on Monday, he'd pretend that he was surprised to find Gibbs still missing. He would easily be able to deflect suspicion away from himself. With Tony and Gibbs out of the way, after a reasonable amount of time searching for them in vein, McGee would be able to take the position of leader and it would only be a matter of time before he became the Director of NCIS. As Director, he'd be in the perfect position to use the powers he would be granted with Tony's sacrifice to aid his brothers and sisters in their ultimate plan. Yes, everything was going to work out perfectly.

Looking down at Gibbs, still shackled on the floor with his mouth covered in duct tape, and his hands bound, McGee grinned. Glancing at a barely functioning Tony, his grin turned into a full blown smile. This was going to be a piece of cake.

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><p><strong>AN: So what do you think? Good? Bad? Is McGee evil or what? Let me know your thoughts in a review!**

**Also, if you haven't done so already, you should check out This Ren on facebook :-)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer**: I don't own NCIS

**Authors Note**: So...yeah...it's been a while. Sorry about that. Things have been a little intense at home for a while now. I could go into a long explanation about how I've been at home with my dying grandmother and trying to keep up with my mentally ill sister (schizophrenia is a terrible thing, if you're not familiar with it), but I'm not going to. I'm sure you'd rather read the chapter. I'll admit, its been so long that even I had to go back and re-read the story to make sure that the edits I was making to this chapter made sense. Just to warn you, this probably isn't my best work. My mind is mostly elsewhere lately, but I had the time and motivation to get it out there, so I thought I would. So, let me know what you think of it.

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><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

Watching the things they were doing to Tony was probably worse than being tortured with those same instruments himself. Gibbs didn't want to watch as several young women clad in white tunics sliced shallow slits into Tony's arms and legs. While Tony himself made very little movement, Gibbs was sickened. Whether Tony showed it or not, he knew that the pain had to be terrible.

He'd been bound and gagged not long after he'd woken up, and he'd watched in vein as McGee had carried on a conversation with Abby. There had been nothing he could do to alert the woman on the other side of the line that McGee was lying, so he simply hoped that Abby wasn't fooled by his lies. She was smart, and she knew of his suspicions. He wouldn't have put it past her to do her own digging in regards to the junior agent. He only hoped that he was right.

Just after McGee had hung up the phone, several other people had entered the room with two gurneys. He'd tried to fight against the two men who approached him, but he knew he wasn't going to get away. One had pulled out a syringe and needle, and after feeling a stinging pain in his neck, he'd lost control of his actions. His head was swimming and his arms and legs refused to obey his commands. The metal shackle was removed, as well as the duct tape, and he was placed on one of the gurneys just as two other men picked up Tony and placed him on the other.

Had he not been drugged, Gibbs might have been able to make sense of the images that flew past him as his gurney was pushed from the room. At one point he'd been outside, but he couldn't really recall anything about it, and then they were inside again. They had eventually come to a stop in this room, and Gibbs gurney had been pushed up against a wall while Tony's had been pushed onward, to the center of the room.

The room was more like an assembly hall. It was large, and in the center was a stage. There were a few rows of chairs surrounding the stage on all sides, but nothing else. The lights were dim, and there were lit candles everywhere, casting flickering shadows everywhere. Aside from the two women slashing Tony, there was only McGee in the room, and he watched the proceedings with a sick smile on his face.

He tried to assure himself that there was more time, that he wasn't at the end just yet, but a voice in the back of his head nagged at him that it was over. He'd failed to save Tony, and they were both going to die. How could he possibly save them if he couldn't thick straight? He could barely string a sentence together. Hope was fading fast…until hope returned.

It had been a little while, but not long, but the drugs were starting to wear off. His limbs became less like jello and more like lead weights. The fog began to dissipate from his brain.

The better he started to feel, the more he became aware of just how badly Tony was being hurt. The younger man's silence had turned into soft moans as the women rubbed hot stones over his torso, creating large red welts on his skin. Gibbs stomach twisted, but he forced himself to watch what was going on while he tried to come up with a way to stop the ritualistic torture.

When McGee's phone began to ring loudly, and the younger man left the room to take the call, Gibbs acted quickly. Despite his heavy limbs, he forced himself off the gurney he'd been wheeled in on and crossed the room. It wasn't hard to overwhelm the women, who hadn't expected him to interrupt. They weren't strong. As he pushed one to the floor, knocking her into a second so they both crumpled into a heap, the two remaining turned tail and ran out of the room to find safety and help. One of the women on the floor didn't get up, simply staring at the scene in front of her, but the other launched a feeble attack. It was easy to knock her to the ground again.

What wasn't easy was getting Tony out of the room. Time was running out, and Tony was dead weight as Gibbs pulled him up and dragged him down one of the aisles towards an open door. Running footsteps could be heard coming from the hallway, so Gibbs made a ninety degree turn and headed towards another door. They just made it out of the auditorium when a group of men entered it. There was no way that Gibbs would have been able to fight them off.

It wasn't far to the exit, but the air was so cold that Gibbs breath caught in his chest for a moment.

"Come on, Tony," he pleaded with the younger man as he tugged him away from the building. "Pick up your feet, damn it!"

Tony didn't respond. Nothing changed.

The group of men was right behind them, thundering out of the building, shouting and hollering, and making a bee-line for them. They were screwed. Gibbs tried to move faster, refusing to give up, but the group was faster.

A gunshot rang out, and for a second Gibbs expected to feel the sharp pain of a bullet as it plowed into him, but no such pain came. A loud pitched scream from one of the men behind him caught him off guard, and as the group disbanded, ducking for cover, more gunshots began to disrupt the still air. Startled, not understanding exactly what was going on, Gibbs stopped to watch until he heard his name being called in a familiar voice.

Ziva stepped out from behind one of the wooden buildings, motioning for him to join her with frantic hand motions.

"Come on, Tony," Gibbs repeated with a grin, pulling him towards the young, female agent. "Let's get out of here."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: There's an Epilogue after this. I'll get around to posting that when I can. Let me know what you think of this chapter!<strong>


	12. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS.**

******A/N: **I'll be honest and admit that I'd almost forgotten all about this story. 2012, to say the least, has not been the easiest of years for me and my family. Sadly, had it not been for several recent story alerts, I probably wouldn't have uploaded this last portion of the story at all.

**Epilogue**

It had been so long that Tony couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this happy. Honestly, he couldn't really remember the last time he'd felt anything other than bitterness. Even if he was in a hospital bed, an IV plugged into his arm and electrodes attached to his chest to keep a running tab of his heartbeat, he felt good.

His father had just left, and the visit had been joyful. Senior had been ecstatic to see that he was up and about after a week of being free of the The Entity, and Tony had indulged him. He'd let his father fuss over how he looked, and listened as the man berated himself for not having thought about The Entity sooner. The old man's guilt was sincere, and Tony had felt awful for him. He didn't hold it against him. Sure, his father could have remembered the decades old threat to him, but he hadn't, and it wasn't going to change now. He'd come through with the information with enough time for Gibbs to show up and save him. That was good enough for Junior.

"Tony!" Abby squealed as she pranced into the room, and he would have groaned if he hadn't been so happy to see her.

From what Gibbs told him several days earlier, if it hadn't been for Abby, they both would have been killed by the psychopaths who had abducted him. Despite feeling better, he was still not feeling like his old self. Other than Gibbs and his father, he'd asked for no visitors. He should have realized that it wouldn't be very long before Abby forced her way in to see him.

"Hey Abs," he grinned at her, happily accepting the hug she gave him.

Gentle Abby made him want to laugh, and he squeezed her tight to let her know that she didn't have to handle him like a glass doll. She took the hint and gave him a good, hard, Abby squeeze.

"I'm so happy that you're okay! I was so worried about you. I'm so sorry I thought you ran off. I should have never thought that you would. I know you too well for that!" Abby gushed as she clung to him. "I never would have believed it if McGee hadn't kept insisting that you had. That bastard! How could he do this?"

"It's alright, Abs," Tony assured her, wrapping his finger around one of her pig tails and tugging at it playfully.

It really was alright. He had tried to be mad when he found out that nobody had been too concerned with looking for him, other than Gibbs. Something about being free had stymied that anger though. Perhaps he just knew how convincing a liar McGee could be now. He could say that he would never have fallen for McGee's tricks, but it would have been a lie. Over the years, even though McGee had been plotting his demise, Tony hadn't caught a single whiff of his bullshit. He'd trusted the younger man. He could see the signs now that he knew to look for them, but wasn't hindsight always 20/20?

"It's not alright," Abby shook her head against his shoulder, "but I'll make it up to you! I promise! When you get out of here, I'm going to put a GPS tracking chip on you. I'm never going to let anything like this happen ever again!"

"Let him breathe, Abigail," Ducky chastised her from the doorway. "He won't get home if you suffocate him."

"Hi, Ducky," Tony greeted the ME.

"Anthony," Ducky smiled gently, and as Abby jumped back, Ducky moved forward to pat his shoulder.

"Where's Gibbs?" Tony wondered, looking between the two.

His boss had left when Senior had walked in the room, giving them privacy. Tony had insisted he could stay, but he'd gone anyway. It had been hours now, though, and Tony was starting to feel a bit anxious. Maybe it was because Gibbs had saved him, or maybe it was because his boss made him feel secure, but Tony didn't want him to be gone for too long. Gibbs presence eased his anxiety, and Tony just knew in his gut that nobody was going to come back for him. McGee didn't have the advantage anymore, and he wouldn't take the boss by surprise again. Gibbs would protect him while he couldn't protect himself. When he wasn't there, Tony felt too vulnerable- like there was a target on his back.

"He's making a call. He'll be in here soon," Ducky assured him as he sat down in the chair that Gibbs had been practically living in for a week.

Tony nodded in understanding. Abby and Ducky kept him entertained with tales of the cases they'd been working on while he'd been away, and when Gibbs returned, toting an apprehensive Ziva with him, Tony's smile grew so large that his cheeks began to hurt. He was alive, and everything was going to be okay. Gibbs would keep him safe, no matter what.

**The End**

**A/N: I hope this ending isn't too disappointing. Thank you to everybody who has read and left reviews, and I sincerely apologize for my lack of updates throughout the end. **


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